


Helium

by TomFD



Series: A thing or two about my love for you [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, Guardian!Jon, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, The Starklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-23 10:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomFD/pseuds/TomFD
Summary: "She sometimes imagined him saying those three words to her, and she would feel weightless, in ecstasy. Free."Ned, Cat and Robb die in quick succession. The remaining Starks are helped by Robb's best friend, and slowly heal their wounds.Except Sansa, who can't seek the comfort in Jon's arms because she is completely, madly in love with him.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> The Jonsa Ship is about to set sail.
> 
>  
> 
> All abooooooooard!

As she woke up, Sansa remembered that she loved Jon Snow.

  
It had felt so good, so warm, to be held and taken care of and loved that Sansa had forgotten that she got in bed with the love of her life, that good, brave, gentle and strong man that had taken them in and looked after them in every way possible.

  
With every death in their family, with every fewer wolf in their pack, another crack appeared on their hearts. The kind of cracks that felt like someone stabbing you and twisting the knife, to get the greatest amount of pain possible out of you.

  
Sansa, seventeen going on eighteen. Arya, barely sixteen. Bran, fourteen. Rickon, the baby of the family, had just turned nine. They were kids. Children, and more than half their family members had died or were absolutely unable to look after them, so much that Robb had preferred to trust them with someone who didn’t even share blood ties with them.  
No grandparents, they died when Robb and Sansa were little. No parents, Ned and Cat died in a car crash three years ago. No older brother, Robb perished in similar circumstances. Their Aunt Lyanna had disappeared before they were born. Uncle Brandon, killed in a failed robbery. Aunt Lysa, currently in an institution for the mentally ill. Uncle Edmure, addicted to gambling and impoverished because of it.

  
_Dead, dead, dead, lost and probably dead, dead, crazy, poor._

  
Quite a family they had.

  
Who on Earth would take in four teenagers who had lost absolutely everything and everyone in their lives?

  
Who would give up part of their life to share it with four grieving, moody, salty teens?

  
Jon Fucking Snow. Jon Targaryen, actually, though he always preferred his mother’s surname. It was shorter and it had a ring to it that his father’s long, complicated surname didn’t.

  
Of course he would take them in. He was Robb’s best friend since they met the first day of first grade. Every memory of the Stark kids included Jon, he was practically family. Every birthday, every Christmas and New Year, sometimes even time spent on vacation together. Robb and Arya loved him fiercely, he got along with the two of them in an inexplicable way. Thick as thieves. Pranks and games and unspoken conversations between the three of them were usual in the Stark household. Jon was the extra big brother that lived across the street, with his parents Rhaegar and Lyanna.

Bran absolutely admired Jon. Bran was always a bit of a nerd, but the bullies in school made him repress that face of him. Jon's openness about being a geek, about loving comic books and sci-fi movies and videogames amazed Bran. It was something small that helped the second youngest Stark a great deal in forging his personality.

  
With Rickon things weren’t much different. He was the baby brother Jon always wanted. Jon had two half siblings from his father’s previous marriage, but Aegon and Rhaenys were both older than him and he didn’t see them as often as he did the Starks. With those five kids from across the street he got to be the cool older brother instead of the annoying younger little brother.

  
And Sansa. Sansa was by all means an outsider in her own home. Sure, she was always included in the games her siblings played with Jon but she actively chose not to participate because her interests swayed in another direction. Well educated, prim and proper, and extremely girly. By the time she was eight, nothing she owned was a colour other than pink or purple.

  
Arya and the boys liked rough games that ended up with them covered in mud, sand or snow, depending on the season and the location. They all seemed to have a tie to Jon that she couldn't quite understand and for a while, she resented him a bit for it. For stealing her siblings to whom she wouldn't pay much attention anyway.

  
The only tie she had with Jon was the huge crush she developed on him when she turned twelve. Right as she started noticing other boys, eighteen year old Jon Snow became an eye candy. Broad build, big arms, firm legs, and a face that appeared to be carved by the gods from the finest marble. A mop of curly dark hair framed it and many times she dreamed of running her fingers through it. Not to mention those sweet, rounded ass cheeks she had spared a glance or two at quite a few times.

  
That huge crush made Sansa make up her mind. She had set her sights on this sweet, adorkable young man and she would make him love her like she loved him. Thinking about it, it sounded a bit... extreme, but no less true.

  
With the years, Sansa approached Jon so as to learn more about him. What he liked, what he didn’t like, his favorite foods (that she would cook sometimes, only when he was staying over), his favorite movies (“The Empire Strikes Back”, “A Clockwork Orange” and to her surprise, “When Harry Met Sally”) and pretty much every fact about Jon Snow that she could notice and absorb like a sponge.

She noticed that while different, they had more things in common than she thought, and she started hanging out with him more often just because it was nice and fun to be around him, and not because she was set on her mission of learning everything about him. That came off easily, spending more and more time with him, just listening to what he had to say, or just appreciating the peaceful silences he enjoyed. They could talk for hours, or they could just stay silent and be cool with it. Sansa felt like she was finally connecting with him, and she'd started to think that her teenage crush on Jon might develop into something deeper.

  
And she was right. Three years ago, when her parents died, she realised that she was in love with Jon. She was fourteen, and an orphan, dealing with pain and grief for the first time in her short life. And Jon was there, all the time. He would dedicate whatever little time he had to support his little neighbors/siblings who had lost their mum and dad. And she loved him for that. For everything he was and everything he did.

  
She waited for him. These last three years since she realised she was in love with him didn’t lack boys who liked her. To hell with stupid Joffrey, with Harry. The little scribbles on the pages of her notebook read “Sansa Snow” time after time. She only had eyes for him.

  
Jon had proven to be the man of her dreams, and last night he had comforted her in his bed, because she was sad and angry and because it was so like him to just _be there_ for them.

  
_God, was he even real?_

Waking up in his arms, she gathered all of her courage and softly caressed his cheeks with her fingertips, until he stirred awake.

  
“Jon?”

  
“Mm?”

  
“I love you.”


	2. Chapter Two

“What?,” Jon said as his lovely brown eyes widened. Had he heard correctly?

  
“I said I love you,” Sansa answered as calmly as she could, considering the importance of the words she’d uttered.

  
Sansa's heart fluttered with relief. Finally, after three years of repressed emotions and pent up feelings, she actually gathered the courage to tell Jon what she felt for him.  
She sometimes imagined him saying those three words to her, and she would feel weightless, in ecstasy. Free.

  
If he corresponded her feelings, nothing could ever make her sad again, because Jon meant the world to her. Jon was the ocean, and she was desperate to drown.

  
Jon made a face and muttered something she couldn't quite hear despite the few inches that separated their faces.

  
“Uh, I know Sans. I love you too,” he said with a lop sided smile and a twinkle in his eyes, “you're like my sister.”

  
_Ouch. Sent to the sisterzone._

  
“No, Jon you- Jon you don't understand. I love you. As in, love…love.” Sansa stuttered and tripped over her words just like last night because that’s what he did, he made her all nervous and dizzy and stupid, despite how smart she was. She never stuttered, she spoke fluently and with the elegance of a monarch but when she talked to Jon –who she’d known since her birth, practically- she was reduced to a blabbering mess.

  
Sansa looked at him in the eye waiting for his response. Jon frowned and looked away, then at her and then away again. He sat up and broke the closeness between them, and Sansa missed his warmth almost instantly.

With every passing second without an answer, her heart clenched and shrunk a bit more.

  
Finally, he looked at her again and he spoke.  
“I uh… I'm gonna be late for work Sans,” he let out a fake chuckle, “better get ready. Guess I'll see you ‘round.”

  
He spoke quickly and nervously, but she couldn't read him very well because she was too busy being heartbroken.

  
If the sound she heard when Jon completely dismissed her confession were audible to everyone else, it would have sounded like a whole cupboard full of glasses falling apart and to the floor.

  
Still sitting in the bed looking empty, she observed as he quickly got dressed and left the room and then the apartment without sparing a glance back. She’d fucked up, hadn’t she? Feeling tears burning in her eyes, she shut her lids close and only released a broken sob when she heard him close the door of the apartment.

She’d ruined everything. Now he was disgusted at her. They'd grown up together, like siblings, he was quite older, more mature and he probably had an interest on some girl that was his own age, not a seventeen year old silly broken girl with stupid dreams.

  
Now, not even the endearing friendship she had built with him would survive. It would die, like everything else.

  
Sansa had never felt so alone as she felt then, with her head resting on her knees, sobbing quietly on Jon's bed.

* * *

  
_What. The. Fuck._

  
There was absolutely no doubt of what she’d said. She repeated it, actually, so that even in his sleepy state he could perfectly understand how she said “I love you”.

  
It was a dream come true. He had pictured Sansa telling him that for a long time. A million different situations but the three words remained, the sole thought of hearing them coming from her lips was enough to put him in a good mood for the day.

  
And now he couldn’t enjoy it because he had chastised himself so many times before that it felt good and wrong at the same time. She was like his sister, after all. They'd grown up together, played the same games (until she didn’t play with them anymore) ate at the same table, walked the same hallways a million times. And she was Robb's little sister. What would he say if he knew Jon lusted after Sansa? Of all his siblings, Robb was overprotective of Sansa. Jon couldn’t bear Robb’s disapproval, even if he was dead.

  
But he loved Sansa, he could take care of her and cherish her for as long as she wanted him to. He was crazy about her, something he begun to develop when Sansa suddenly decided to hang out with him more. Before, she was a bit annoying and boring, but he grew to know every aspect of her, and he learned that she was indeed very interesting. She was funny, kind, witty, sweet and extraordinarily beautiful. Jon could drown in the blue of her eyes, and he would gladly burn in the fire of her hair if it meant being close to her. She loved him, and he loved her. What could stop them?

  
_Oh right. The law._

  
Sansa was Robb's beautiful sister. Who was also a minor. And Jon was her legal tutor. Any kind of relationship they had beyond that was by any terms, illegal and could end up with him being arrested.

  
_But Sansa turns eighteen in a month and a half,_ the little devilish voice in his head whispered.

  
_She’s still your little sister._

  
_No she is not._

  
She is not.

  
He had forsaken a big chunk of his young adult years for the Stark kids, had suffered their losses alongside them because they were his own too. He wouldn’t deny himself happiness if it was two doors away. He wouldn’t deny Sansa the love she deserved.  
When he got home, he would tell her what he felt and everything would be alright.

* * *

  
When he arrived from the office, before opening the door, he turned on his phone, which had been turned off to save some battery. He had forgotten to charge it last night because of a certain redhead sleeping in his arms. As he thought of telling Sansa he loved her too, his heart fluttered and he happily turned the key in the lock.

  
With a smile, he crossed the threshold, and announced himself.

  
“Honey, I'm-“

  
What he saw as soon as he got inside were a couple of police officers, clad in blue speaking to the kids in the living room. Arya was the one who noticed him first. Jon noticed that her eyes were swollen and red, as if she’d been crying.

  
She leapt from her seat and went running to fiercely embrace Jon, who was dumbfounded, frozen in place.

  
“Arya, what happened?” Only then he looked at the screen of his IPhone, that had 27 missed calls from Arya and Bran.

  
“It's Sansa,” Arya whispered, “she's gone.”

 


	3. Chapter Three

_Gone_.

  
It was his fault. He had reacted terribly at Sansa’s confession this morning and now she was heartbroken, sad and alone out there, with no one to look after her. It’s incredible how a poor handling of an emotional situation like that could lead to this. If he’d said something like "I love you like you love me” then this would have never happened. If he had said anything at all this wouldn't have happened, but he was a coward, too fearful of a dead man’s opinion and the whispers of a thousand strangers to voice out his feelings.

  
He had resorted to suffering in silence, while he patiently expected Sansa to show up with a boyfriend, the man of her dreams, her prince in a shining armor that would appear to shatter Jon's hope and heart. She deserved a man like that, not him. Why would she even love him? Too afraid to tell her that he loved her, that he wanted to make her happy and kiss all of her fears and worries away. He was a craven, weak man. But he would find Sansa, because he knew her too well, and he knew where she might be.

  
_“It's a bit cold out here,” Jon said as he approached Sansa. She was sitting in one of the swings in the old playground three blocks away from their street, with her head ducked down. She had braided her fiery red hair and the braid hung tiredly by the inside of her right arm. She was clutching the rope that held the swing tightly, and she had tears falling down her cheeks._

  
_The funeral had ended about four hours ago, and everyone had gone home. Dressed in a plain, black dress, Sansa had seen as the caskets containing her parent’s remains were lowered into the freshly dug earth._

  
_After hearing his voice, she softly turned her head around to see Jon Snow slowly approach her. It was cold, but as he draped his coat around her shoulders, and the smell of him invaded her nostrils every notion of discomfort was gone. Only the void of sadness and loss remained._

  
_“Thank you,” she muttered. Sansa wanted to be alone but Jon’s presence was more than welcome._

  
_He sat on the swing to her left, and started to move his feet back and forth, creating a peaceful rocking motion that made the ropes creak. For a while, that and the tender rustling of the trees surrounding the playground were the only sounds they heard, until a sob escaped her lips. The next thing she knew, Jon had his arms around her and she was weeping in earnest against his shoulder, soaking his white shirt with salty tears._

  
_And Jon knew that as long as she wanted, he would be there for her._

  
“Mr. Snow?” Jon was startled out of his thoughts by one of the police officers that had answered Arya and Bran’s call. She was tall, much taller than him, and had short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Aside from her crooked nose, which seemed to have been broken several times, she was pretty. The little nametag on her uniform read “Lt. Tarth”

  
“Yes?,” he answered weakly. He was still wondering if Sansa was where he thought she would be.

  
“My name is Lieutenant Brienne Tarth. We received a call from your... excuse me, how are you and the children related?,” she asked with a confused frown. Her partner, a short, young man whose nametag read “Payne” looked at Arya, Bran and Rickon, and then at him with suspicion in his eyes.

  
“We’re not. I am their legal guardian. Their parents and older brother… passed away and I took them in.”

  
“I see.” The suspicion left Payne’s gaze and Lt. Tarth continued. “Arya told us that Sansa skipped school today because she said she wasn’t feeling well, and that when the three of them returned home they couldn’t find her. They tried to call her but she would not answer.” Arya and the boys nodded. “Is there any reason why she would have wanted to leave?”

  
Jon met her gaze with sad, tired eyes.

  
“She hasn’t been doing very well lately. With all that’s happened, she… hasn’t been herself.” He didn’t want to talk about what had happened in the morning. Not in front of two strangers and the kids.

  
The youngest Stark girl spoke next.

  
“Jon, do you have any idea where she might be? We still can’t report her as a missing person because it hasn’t been that long since she’s gone. They showed up here because I yelled so much on the phone they just gave up and came.”

  
“I must’ve called her fifteen times, but it seems like her phone is dead or something,” Bran added.

  
Jon looked at the three of them and they seemed exhausted and worried to death. He was exhausted and worried to death, but it wouldn’t do any good if he started to panic. He was the adult here, and technically the cops couldn’t do much because Sansa had been missing for about five hours, or less.  
So it was up to him. He thanked Lt. Tarth and Officer Payne and saw them to the door. They told him to call to the station as soon as the twelve hours of her disappearance passed, if he didn't find her before.

  
Once the cops were gone, he turned to the kids.

  
“Arya, you’re in charge. I think I know where Sansa is but I'm not sure. I'm going to leave you some money so you can order food, and have some sleep. The three of you are staying here tomorrow, you've been through a lot to face school.”

  
Arya met his eyes with a determined gaze, but that face fell off and she released a sob before hugging him again.

  
“Please Jon,” she whispered in his ear, “bring her home.”

  
“I will,” he answered under his breath, “I will.”

  
He got in his car, and started driving towards his old neighborhood, about three miles away from his flat.

* * *

  
Fate, once again, found her weeping in this playground while she rocked softly on her swing. She was trying to run away from Jon and yet she ended up at the place where she had fallen in love with him.

  
_Oh the irony_.

  
In this place, where three years ago he had held her so tightly, so warmly, that without saying a word she knew he would always be there for her, for better or worse. It was just the way he was.

  
As soon as Jon had left for work in the morning, she had faked an illness and told her siblings to catch the bus to school because she was staying at home. She usually drove them all, she had her license and Jon usually took the subway to work to avoid traffic jams, so he let her take his car on school days.

  
She waited half an hour after they had left to leave the flat herself. She started walking, aimlessly at first but then she noticed that she was heading for her old neighborhood, where Jon and her family used to live. After an hour and a half or so, she reached the old playground, and had stayed there for hours. The sky had begun to darken and a chill crept up her spine. She hadn’t expected to be away for so long so she hadn’t brought a hoodie or a coat.

  
She looked at the watch on her left wrist, a gift from Jon, no less, for her seventeenth birthday. _22:24_. Jon was probably out looking for her after working all day to support them, the kids must have been scared and alone and… _what was she doing?_

  
She was almost eighteen, almost an adult and she'd run off like a silly girl trying to hide from her problems. She sighed. It was time to face the facts. Her whole family was dead save for her four younger siblings, she was entirely fucked up because of it and to make it worse she had ruined her relationship with Jon because he didn’t love her like she did him and she wouldn't take it. And it was fine. _Time to grow the fuck up, Sansa Stark_.

  
With a huff she got up, and she turned around, giving a determined step towards her home, with Jon who saw her as his little dumb sister,  and Arya and Bran and Rickon who probably hate her now. Only to run face first into something solid, but warm.

  
It was Jon. More like, Jon's chest, actually. His perfect, muscled, worked out chest. _Cut it out, dumbass._

  
At first there was shock on his face, then a wave of relief and then complete and utter anger. He grasped her upper arms, firmly but not enough to hurt, and started almost-yelling.

  
“Sansa! I was worried sick! Your siblings are at home, they called the cops, you didn’t answer your-why do you even have a phone if you’re not going to answer It?! Why did you leave? Why couldn’t you tell me or the boys- just…” he gave a defeated sigh. “It’s about this morning, isn't It?”

  
Sansa only looked at him as coldly as she could. It was her  _"I don't give a single fuck"_ mask. It never worked on him anyway.

  
“No. What even happened this morning? I just wanted to visit the old neighborhood, that’s all.” Her voice broke at the end and ahe sounded like a petulant child. _Wow. Impressive._ _Such an adult you are, sweetie._

  
Their gazes locked. Brown on blue. Sansa expected more yelling, anger, fury. A tsunami of scoldings. But she did not in a thousand years expect that Jon _Loveofmylife_ Snow  would duck down and put his infuriatingly pouty lips on hers, pulling her in for her first kiss ever.

 _I died and ended up in heaven_ , she thought, as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the firm pull of her love's sweet lips. The cold gave way to warmth. To raw heat in her core. She was alive.  _Very, very alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT LETTING MY BABIES BE SAD OVER EACH OTHER GODDAMMIT


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kisses.

She couldn’t remember her name, she couldn’t remember where she was. She couldn’t notice the chilly air brushing softly against her body, or the rustle of fallen leaves around her.

  
She could only be aware of the firm pressure of Jon's lips on her own, on how his strong arms encircled her slim body and pressed her against his hard frame, one of his hands on the small of her back and the other at the back of her neck, caressing her hair.

  
It was an explosion inside her. Fireworks, sparkle and sunshine released, a burst of emotion. It was all she ever wanted, happening right now.

  
Her own hands flew around his neck, and she clasped her fingers tightly, just to hold him there in case he regretted kissing her.  
After fifteen eternal seconds, the lack of air made them break apart. Jon stared right into Sansa's eyes, and leaned down to press his forehead against hers. They were breathless and unable to speak, but Sansa made an effort to start talking, to explain why she had ran away.

  
“Jon-“

  
“Save your explanation for Arya and the boys. I know. I acted like an idiot this morning, because you said the words I’ve wanted to hear for years now and I didn’t know how to answer.“ He sighed. “And I hurt you and I fucking hate myself for that, Sans, you- you have no idea how much-“ he closed his eyes for a moment, but when Sansa gingerly cupped his cheeks, he continued.

  
“I love you. I love you Sansa. I love you so much it hurts. I’m completely crazy for you. I'd do anything for you, to make you happy, to keep you safe, to… to… oh fuck, I don’t even know what I'm saying anymore. But see? That’s what you do to me. I can’t even finish a sentence because my brain turns into jelly when I’m with you and I fucking love that too! I've never felt this way before Sans. But it’s amazing.”

  
At this point, tears were streaming down Sansa's cheeks, and she had on of the biggest smiles he'd ever seen plastered on her face. She sniffled a bit and wiped her tears with the sleeve of her fluffy pink sweater.

  
“I love you too, dumbass,” she said. “You make me feel… alive. After everythimy that's happened, it was like… a ghost. A reflection of myself. And now you go and say three words and… and I know everything’s okay.”

  
“Well,” She chuckled next, looking up straight into his grey eyes, “now that we clarified that, how about we make out a bit more and then we go home?” she said as innocently as she could, as she started twirling a lock of Jon’s dark hair with her finger.

  
Jon laughed, he caressed her cheeks with his thumbs and then he leaned down to claim her lips once again.

  
It was going to be hard to explain to the kids. And everyone else. But, well, neither of them couldn’t care because they were in each other’s arms, kissing each other’s lips and were the happiest they'd ever been.

  
The ride home was comfortably silent. Sansa rested her head against the cold glass of the car's window, watching the street lights pass in an illuminated blur.

  
Jon drove smoothly, at this time of the night on a weekday, there weren’t many cars out on the roads. His left hand was firmly grabbing the steering wheel, and his right hand was holding Sansa's left hand. Stopping at a red light, he lifted her hand to press a kiss to her fingers. She glanced at him, smiling softly at her, looking at her as though she’d put the moon and the stars in the sky.

  
“Hey.”

  
“Hey.”

  
They started laughing, like the young and carefree couple they aspired to be, like they hadn’t lost three of the most important people in their lives, like they hadn’t cried themselves to sleep more than once during the past years.

  
This was everything they wanted. Hugs, kisses, holding hands, and laughing about nothing. They really needed it. They needed each other in their lives.

  
When they arrived, they got out of the car and walked hand in hand to the elevator that would take them to their floor. Sansa pressed the button, and while they waited for the lift to reach the ground floor, she looked around to see of anyone was watching. With no one there, she grabbed Jon's face and pulled him down for a bruising kiss that made her dizzy. His hands were on her waist while her fingers tangled in his dark curls. This kiss was a bit wilder than the few they'd shared at the playground, with more touching, more tongue, more-

  
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!”

  
They hastily broke apart to see Arya standing inside the elevator, staring at them in disbelief with her mouth hanging open her brows knitted in confusion and her grey eyes wide.

  
Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! Horrible case of writer's block. Couldn't get anything out of my head and into the fic correctly. 
> 
> Also I seem to have a tendency of making Arya bust Jonsa

**Author's Note:**

> *Obi Wan Kenobi's voice*
> 
> Hello there!
> 
> Anyway this is going to be a short fic, not over five chapters I think, but the series might continue with separate one shots.
> 
> I hope you liked It! If you did, please leave a comment!


End file.
